


Reactor B, Control Room C

by Cperls24



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - No Island, F/M, Flash Fiction Challenge, Jar of Honey - Freeform, Nuclear Power Plant, Prompts were:, Romantic Comedy, Slightly OOC Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 09:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cperls24/pseuds/Cperls24
Summary: Oliver's new overnight shift includes a bubbly blonde printer technician, but he can't gather the nerve to ask her out. So he manufactures reasons for her to keep visiting.





	Reactor B, Control Room C

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into posting in the Arrow Verse, but I wrote this story as part of a writing contest a while back. I couldn't help picturing Felicity and Oliver as my main characters, so I refashioned it after submitting. [Slightly OOC Oliver]

 

When he'd applied for the job, Oliver thought being a Nuclear Chemist sounded kind of cool. Like ‘save the world, get the girl in a crazy action sequence’ kind of cool. And it was cool. He’d thought maybe he wasn’t smart enough, but it was surprisingly straightforward. Chemistry was his best subject and he had (somehow, finally, after being kicked out of three different colleges) gotten his bachelor’s degree in the subject. He’d done all his training and security checks, and now he was in charge of “Reactor B - Control Room C” on overnights (like,  _ in charge,  _ in charge). 

 

But it was also quiet (they were spread thin on the overnight shift) and now this printer had totally gotten the best of him. Flashing orange light, error screen, the whole nine yards. The monitor in the right corner of the room (of the 20 million monitors in here) was now beeping angrily at him and he was pretty sure he needed those reports automatically printing every hour. 

 

He couldn’t ‘save the world, get the girl’ with that infernal machine around.

 

Then a ray of sunshine in the form of a perky blonde woman had backed her way into Control Room C with a heavy looking toolbox, a brightly colored polo shirt with a logo on the front pocket, pumps and a high ponytail. She’d blinked slowly as she evaluated Oliver’s presence and asked where John was. 

 

He’d shrugged and explained that John had switched to day shifts when his wife had the baby. She’d squealed about the baby, introduced herself as Felicity the Printer Tech, and settled down at a computer to run diagnostics. 

 

That’s when he found out that she’d named the printer (“Of course I named him!”). Because Curtis was a finicky old man’s name, and he was in Reactor C. 

 

Curtis was a problem child. Every Tuesday night, like clockwork, the software program and printer (Curtis) failed in one way or another, and Oliver called Felicity over to Reactor B Control Room C. He liked the company. If he was being honest with himself,  _ ‘like’ _ was quickly going the way of  _ ‘more than like’ _ and  _ ‘maybe even love.’ _

 

In September he came into work with bloodshot eyes and a red nose, citing allergies. On Friday, a jar of honey appeared on his desk, with a note written in loopy cursive:  _ “Local honey helps with allergies! ‘Bee’ seeing you!” _

 

Then they solved Curtis’ mystery, and Felicity had other calls to answer, leaving Oliver with a lot of time with his work and his thoughts. Finally, the other Nuclear Technicians told him he needed to ‘man up’ and ask her out. He usually didn’t have a problem asking beautiful women out-- in fact, before he’d shaped up and graduated, he’d been a bit of a ladies man in college. But Felicity rambled her way through every moment of silence that Oliver would have used to ask her on a date. 

 

The first time, he maneuvered a truly intricate way to jam the paper in the feeder. And while she stayed for nearly an hour and they laughed over the latest episode of their favorite television show, she was called away to Reactor D before he could ask her to breakfast after their shift. 

 

Then he ‘accidentally’ deleted the print drivers and she had to reload them manually. She spent most of the visit scolding him about not watering the leafy fern that John had left behind, and he spent the rest of the time trying not to laugh at her serious efforts to be stern in her instructions on how to water a plant. He was so enamored by the way her forehead crinkled, he forgot about inviting her to lunch at the new bistro by the river. 

 

Last time, she had winked and wondered aloud if the toner had mysteriously run out because he’d wanted company. But the fourth time would be the charm. He’d told the custodian he could unplug the printer when he needed an outlet for the vacuum, knowing it would trigger an open ticket in her system. Felicity would walk out of Reactor B, Control Room C with a date to see her favorite band in concert next Saturday afternoon. 

 

“Alright buddy, I know Curtis doesn’t just go offline whenever he feels like it, even if he is the spawn of Satan.” Her voice could be heard down the hall before he saw her emerge into the dim control room. Not quite romantic, because the blue lines of code and red, yellow, and white control keys lit up the room in a rainbow of clashing colors, but it would have to do. “You do know I have to carry this huge tool box every time I go on a call.” 

 

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. She stood in front of him, her ponytail still swaying from the effort of setting down her tool box, and his nerves set in full force. 

 

“Custodian unplugged the device to vacuum.” Felicity rolled her eyes, but there was really no heart behind the action, considering the size of her smile. She plopped down in his chair and pulled out a tupperware. 

 

“I hope he’s gone. Because I really only brought enough brownies for the two of us.” She smiled mischievously at him. 

 

“He’s gone. But while we’re on the topic of the two of us--”

 

They both jumped as Oliver was interrupted by a blaring siren and red and white flashing lights.

 

“What did you do?” Felicity yelled over the deafening alarms as he ran to the computer monitors, which instructed him to follow protocol and find the Senior Plant Operator. 

 

“I swear, this one wasn’t me!” Oliver defended himself, double-checking the computer readings.  _ Stay calm _ , he repeated to himself as a mantra. He went to the closet and grabbed two protective chemical suits, and handed one to her. 

 

She simply stared at it slackjawed, eyes wide. “Now might be the time to admit that I was out sick the day we practiced this drill.”  

 

Oliver laughed and zipped up the front of her suit, ignoring how intimate it felt. He motioned for her to walk towards the door. The guys from Control Rooms A and B were already in the hallway. But just before they got to the elevator, Felicity stopped short and shouted that she’d be right back. 

 

Oliver held the elevator door as the rest of the group calmly filtered in despite the chaos of lights and alarms around them. There was only one chance to get up to the Main Level during a lockdown, and every second Felicity spent in that control room was another second they needed to find the Senior Plant Operator. She emerged finally, scurrying towards them.  Once she was in, the heavy doors closed muffled the noisy alarms. 

 

His ears were ringing and his head hurt from the lights, but Oliver couldn’t stop grinning stupidly at Felicity, standing in the elevator, wearing an oversized white protective suit with their plant in one arm and his jar of honey in the other. 

 

“If there was a nuclear meltdown, I couldn’t let Carl die...” She reasoned, her voice trailing off into the awkward silence of the elevator.. 

 

“You named our plant too.”

 

“Of course I named our plant!” She replied, and began another stream of sentences about naming inanimate objects, but he wasn’t paying attention. He ignored the fact that they were surrounded by his coworkers (who, to be honest, had encouraged Oliver to ask her out for the past three months anyway). 

 

He zipped open her face mask, radiation be damned, and kissed her. Upon which she stopped talking and responded enthusiastically, until one of his coworkers cleared his throat. They pulled away, slightly out of breath (and sweating a little, because those suits were hot). 

 

“If there isn’t a nuclear meltdown, do you want to go to a concert on Saturday afternoon?”

 

She blushed and laughed, but her response was interrupted by the elevator doors opening into the main control room. The alarms had quieted, although the flashing lights continued and fifteen armed guards stood in the bay, at ease and looking bored. 

 

“You can go back to your posts,” the Senior Plant Operator grumbled to the surprised looking group. “Some custodian unplugged the Isotope Monitoring System in Reactor D to use his vacuum and triggered the alarm.”

 

Grinning, Felicity leaned up to whisper in Oliver’s ear.  

 

“If this was also part of your plan, you should know that I would have said yes on your first day.”

 


End file.
